Tuesday, August 26, 2008


I moved my girls into the same bedroom over the weekend. I decided to do this for several reasons, not the least of these being that I am determined that these girls are going to have a good relationship if by nothing more than the sheer force of my will. The perk to this sleeping arrangement is that it gave us space to turn the other room into a playroom. For all their crap. Mounds and piles and OMFG can you believe how much crap two people with less than five years combined time on this earth have?

There was much sorting/cleaning/moving/donating/setting objects on fire and rolling them down a hill to do and trying to do that with two toddlers? Impossible. So we enlisted the help of one of The Godfathers, Uncle Anthony and under the guise of Quality Time, off they went Saturday. Much was accomplished and all was well. I realized that evening that there was lots of purchasing of organizational implements to be done, AKA: The Bins. Many, many of The Bins. I ended up taking Roob with me as Goldie was otherwise engaged with Screaming. And shattering eardrums. In her defense, The Screaming was induced by a traumatic injury of a gougey nature to her Achilles tendon and while warranted, The Screaming was sure to be unwelcome by the friendly folks at our local Target.

I digress. Shopping. Yes. Ruby and me and Expedition Buy the Effing Bins That Match The Other Effing Bins That We Already Have. We ended up on a 3 Target tour spanning 2 hours that coincidentally covered both the hour in which she is normally fed and the hour in which she goes to bed. Because I called the toll free number within the next twenty minutes, the universe threw Unmedicated Teething into the mix to keep things interesting. I made the best of the situation. If you happened to be shopping in any Target located on Portland's East side, yes, indeed I was the unwashed woman pushing the cart full of Rubbermaid Bins, complete with mostly naked toddler sticky with her dinner of blue raspberry Icee and popcorn who was sucking on a bottle of Jet Dry.

The girls spent the next day with their favorite almost-big-sisters Blair and Paigey (Lord knows why college girls want to spend their Sunday with two people whose idea of a good time involves a cardboard box and a plastic firefighter hat.) The resulting sleeping/playroom areas are nothing short of amazing.

Today I put them in their beds for a nap. They took that opportunity to remove the window shade, strip their sheets and get naked while laughing uncontrollably. I was furious. GIRLS!! IT IS NOT TIME FOR PLAYING, IT IS TIME FOR SLEEPING! STOP GIGGLING! THAT'S IT, GOLDIE, GET IN THE OTHER ROOM WITH YOUR PILLOW FOR NAP.

So, basically I got mad at them for taking the opportunity of forced closeness to, you know get close.

*hits forehead*

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Conversations with Three

I asked Goldie what her baby's name was and, naturally she said it was Marco because that is the name of the baby from Sesame Street. Speaking of which, lets face it, Sesame Street is the thin thread that separates Mean Mom of Gritted Teeth and Also Much Screaming from Nice Mommy Who Had Time to Make Coffee ThankyouJesus. Anyway. Marco. Yes. I was trying to make conversation with her that was something other than the usual "stop making me want to curl into the fetal position because the whining? Must. Stop." I asked her if since that baby was named Marco, if the other one was Polo. She looked thoughtfully for a moment and said "No. Not Polo. I don't like that name. Her name is.......ummm. Yeah. Her name is...."

Five minutes later she came back and announced that her other baby's name is Pola. Definitely not Polo. Because her mother has really crappy suggestions.

Wednesday, August 06, 2008


  • While I was busy working and Davey was spending some time with Goldie enjoying her new! sticker book! Ruby was quietly digging through the pantry, naked but for her diaper. By the time we found the reason for her green, powdery baby body, she was proudly rubbing the solid green -with -mold hamburger buns all over her body like a loofah.
  • This past weekend our friends lent us their awesome beach house. Things were going great until a series of unfortunate events happened: 1. Goldie pooped in her nighttime pull up. 2. She ran to find us. 3. The poop in it's awe-inspiring quantity, could no longer be contained and fell out of said pull up. 4. She stepped in it. 5. Repeatedly. 6. Poop prints where incurred on very nearly white carpet. 7. I died. Needless to say, we learned a lot about the lack of availability of professional carpet cleaners on short notice and also about the Bissell full line of carpet shampooers.

Friday, August 01, 2008

3 years

Dear Goldie,

Welcome to your 3rd year. Being your mom is the most incredible thing I have ever done. Watching you grow and learn and have so much fun discovering your world makes me realize that you and your sister are the most amazing gifts I will ever have in my life.

Quirky, spunky, unflappable and strong willed are the words that best describe you. After all this time I am finally realizing that you are a tiny replica of myself and that you just march to the beat of your own little drummer. Who cares if you wear polka dots with floral print? I am realizing that what matters is that you are the only one who truly knows what is right for you. I say a little prayer every day that I will have the wisdom and courage to let you be your wonderful little self and not try to stifle your jubilant nature.

You already have a way with words. When I asked you what you thought of the bats that we saw at the zoo you answered " I think that the bats at the zoo were quite offensive." Really? Or was that the word that you overheard me saying in regards to the odor of the bat cave? I really need to watch what I say, you are listening. I don't think I will ever tire of hearing you say that you have a smell in your nose or a noise in your ear. My favorite remains you referring to yourself as a "Hot mess." Stinker.

People always say how smart their kids are. They don't know that I have bred the smartest one of all. Against my heart's desire to keep you home with me forever, you started preschool today. You were so ready and I think it would be a mistake to have held you back any longer.

Goldie, you are an amazing child. You crack me up and in the next moment make me want to put you on the curb with a free sign. I have never seen a child more capable than you. You have been doing "chores" for about 6 months and you truly are a help, setting the table, holding the dustpan, handing me diapers for Sissy and putting trash liners in. You can brush your teeth, potty, fully dress yourself and seem ready, willing and able to do anything. I love that about you. Also, you may not know this, but your little sister's name is not actually Sissy.

You are the best big sister in the world, teaching Ruby the ropes and always being there to share your toys and snacks while handing out big sister hugs and kisses.

In short, I adore you. I am so lucky to be your mama. You rock.